The Other Woman
by lizzybennettdarcy
Summary: Laurel Lance finally knows everything there is to know about Oliver Queen. They can finally be together. Right? Or the two conversations that knock some sense into Laurel about her romantic future.


**I'll level with you; I have no idea what this is or where it came from. I'm not Laurel's biggest fan, though I try not to write her too harshly. I was driving today and imagined this conversation and here it is. I don't know how well I wrote from Laurel's POV (Since I don't particularly like her) but I feel like this is sort of how the writer's set up her mental process. Anyways, let me know what you think. Its always a little nerve-wracking writing a different POV.**

***Spoilers up til season 3***

**Enjoy! I own nothing.**

* * *

Laurel Lance closed the door behind her as she stepped into her father's apartment. She stepped out of her shoes and padded towards the living room.

"Daddy?" She called out as she heard the toilet flushing down the hall.

Leaning against the back of the couch, she crossed her arms and looked around at her surroundings. He'd downsized after the divorce and she'd never managed to think of his tiny apartment as _home_. Pictures of herself and Sara covered the walls, though very few had been taken in the last few years.

"Laurel, Honey. I didn't hear you come in." She turned from gazing at a picture of the three of them to watch him hobble slowly into the room. He kissed her forehead before dropping onto the couch she leaned against.

His recovery had been a slow one. The surgery had been more invasive than they'd hoped for. She knew that her father was itching to get back on the force. It would be months before he'd be able to pass a physical. Her eyes flickered over the television screen and she giggled at what she saw there.

"More soaps, Dad?" She teased, collapsing onto the couch beside him and tucking her feet beneath her.

Quentin rolled his eyes and shrugged. They'd discussed this before. He no longer felt the need to explain how bad daytime television was. He also knew that telling her about the lives of his favorite soap characters would only earn him more ribbing.

Neither of them mentioned that it was in fact no longer daytime. Or that fact that he'd PVR'd both General Hospital and The Young and the Restless.

After several moments of companionable silence, Quentin looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "You look nice, Kiddo. Hot date?"

Laurel's hands twitched in her lap. "Mmhmm."

She ignored the way that her father's eyebrows furrowed and focused on the drama on-screen. The image froze and she sighed as her father paused the show and waited her out.

"I'm going to dinner with Ollie tonight." She clenched her jaw and waited for the onslaught.

Instead of the anger she'd expected, her father merely sighed and wiped a tired hand over his face. He was silent for a long time before he finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

"I really wish that you wouldn't, Laurel." He told her quietly, earnestly.

Laurel's eyes narrowed and she jumped to her feet. Pacing in front of her father, she mentally ran through her argument even as she began speaking. "I know that you don't like him. And yes, I know that he and Sara only broke up a few months ago. And I know that we have a complicated past. I know all of that, Dad. I do." She glared at him. "But he's different now and I can't explain it to you." She couldn't. He didn't want to know. "I've always felt like things were unfinished between the two of us. After Tommy died I really thought we were done. But now, things have changed and I think that maybe we were always meant to be. We just had to get to this point, right now."

Her steps faltered when she saw the sadness in her dad's eyes. He shook his head slowly before responding. "Laurel, I think you're wrong. I know he's not the same boy who took your sister on that boat. I know that. But I think you're wrong. The two of you have a past. You don't have a future."

Her eyes stung at his words, though she wasn't sure if it was the message itself or the kind way he'd said them.

"Why do you still hate him? Why? You don't know anything about him anymore, Daddy!" She yelled, fighting the tears that desperately wanted to escape.

"I don't hate him, Sweetheart. Not anymore. And I know more than my fair share about Oliver Queen."

She shook her head. He didn't understand. He just didn't.

"There are things you don't know, Dad. Things that change everything." She whispered.

She watched as her father raised a glass of water to his lips. She waited him out as he drained the glass and set it firmly on the table in front of him.

"Oliver Queen being the Hood does _not _change everything." He raised an eyebrow as she gaped at him. "I'm a detective, Honey. I could only ignore what I knew deep down for so long. Too many damn coincidences."

Laurel blinked in surprise for a few moments before going on the attack. "Then you understand! He's always saved me. Always come for me. He still loves me."

She watched as her father struggled to his feet. He stepped towards her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Did he tell you that?"

Laurel shook her head. "He didn't need to. But Slade took me and-"

"And Miss Smoak." He added.

Laurel's eyes narrowed, shaking her head. "That was just a trick. He pretended to love her so that he could get me back."

Quentin blew out a long breath and stepped back. She could see him considering his words carefully and a wave of anger pulsed through her.

"Do you really believe that?" He asked finally.

She did. She _does_. Oliver loved her. He loved _her, _not his secretary.

She told her father so.

She was surprised to see her father glaring at her as if her words had offended him. "Felicity Smoak is _much _more than Queen's secretary. And I can tell you that he would have trusted _no one _else with that syringe. Yes, he did his best to save you. But he didn't just throw his secretary to a psychopath because of you. She's his partner. And you're making a very big mistake by underestimating what she means to him, Honey."

Laurel's hands fisted at her sides. Felicity Smoak was a perfect cliché and nothing more. Yes, Laurel would admit that she was smarter than the average blond secretary. And she was braver than most. And it was obvious that the blonde was taken with Oliver. But she'd never had any reason to suspect that those feelings were returned. He'd endangered her to save Laurel.

"Sometimes you have to do the unthinkable, Honey. For me, that was telling him to kill Slade to keep you safe. Felicity talked him into being a hero instead. For Oliver, the unthinkable was placing Felicity in danger to save the City, to save you and everyone else." She stared into her father's eyes and saw only honesty there. "I asked him to murder a man to keep you safe. It would have been easier. But she asked him not to. Think about that."

Laurel's eyes blinked rapidly as tears began to fall. "Why are you saying all of this?"

Her father sighed and he reached towards her. She stepped out of his reach and his face fell. "Because I don't want to see you share him again. You deserve better."

Laurel wiped hastily at her tears. "What are you talking about? Sara is gone and she's with Nyssa and-"

"And Oliver Queen is head over ass in love with Felicity Smoak." He declared loudly, silencing her. "And you deserve better. Because he's felt that way about her for a long time. I noticed it when he was just the Hood. Months ago I noticed it. And he hasn't done anything about it. Maybe he won't. God knows why. But if you take him back, if he takes _you _back, he'll never be just yours. Because she's his partner in every other way." She shook her head and more tears fell. She didn't want to hear this. "I'm sorry, Kiddo. You can hate me for the tough love. But you deserve more than being second best. You should never have to be second best."

He pulled her against his chest and she didn't fight him. "I don't hate Oliver. I respect him and if things were different, I wouldn't be fighting you on this. But things aren't different. And she's a good woman, Laurel. She's the reason he's a hero. Everyone was telling him to do what it took, to get more blood on his hands. But she didn't. And her little voice was the only one he heard. I'm sorry, Kiddo. I'm sorry."

Laurel cried into her father's shoulder for a few moments more before untangling herself from his arms. "I need to go." She stepped away from him and she heard him sigh as she stepped into her shoes and left his apartment.

* * *

Laurel walked into the restaurant and followed the host to the table. She noticed his tight smile even before she'd opened her mouth and her steps faltered. She allowed the host to pull out her chair for her before turning to face him.

His eyes moved over her face and she realised she hadn't fixed her makeup. She wiped under her eyes quickly. He didn't mention her tear-stained cheeks.

"You look nice tonight." He told her instead. His tone pleasant and polite.

Laurel swallowed around the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. "Thank you, Ollie."

She didn't miss the way his eye twitched when she called him Ollie. He smiled politely at her once more before turning his attention to his menu. She studied him as he studied his menu.

She had thought that things would be different now. She had thought that he'd stop hiding from her. She wasn't stupid. She knew when he was smiling for real and when he was smiling for show. And as much as it hurt her to admit it, she hadn't received one of his real smiles in seven years.

She'd seen him smile at Felicity though.

"_And Oliver Queen is head over ass in love with Felicity Smoak."_

It didn't make any sense. She knew everything about him now. She knew he was the Hood. She knew why he'd been so different when he'd come back.

So why was he staring at the menu like he wished it would swallow him whole?

"I've heard the steak here is quite nice." He informed her in that _tone_. The one he used on businessmen and golddiggers and people he didn't know. People he didn't trust.

Laurel inhaled sharply as she realised that he didn't trust her. Tears stung behind her eyes as he finally looked up at her. She saw a flash of concern in his eyes before his face was again a smooth mask of polite interest.

"I thought everything would change between the two of us." She breathed out in a rush. "I thought that once you knew that I knew-" Another flash of concern hidden quickly. "That we'd be ready."

She watched as his eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Ready for what, Laurel?" His tone was low, clearly unhappy with the topic.

The band around her heart squeezed painfully. "To be together, Ollie. I thought that, with no more secrets between us, that we'd be together." _For good._

Oliver's eyes dulled and he suddenly looked much older than his 28 years. He lifted his scotch to his mouth and drained it. His eyes never left hers even as he searched for a way to answer her.

"There will always be secrets between us, Laurel. I didn't choose to tell you my secret." He paused and his jaw clenched as if he was gearing up for something unpleasant. "And I wouldn't have told you. Never. You need to understand that."

Oh.

Laurel leaned back heavily against her chair. He was going to lie to her forever. A small, hopeful part of her argued that he would have kept it from her to keep her safe.

But he'd told Felicity.

"You don't love me, do you?" She whispered, the words slicing her open as they left her mouth.

He sighed and looked away from her. Rubbing the back of his head, he took a deep breath. She counted to seven before his eyes met hers once more.

"No, Laurel. Not in the way that you want me to." He admitted, eyes full of guilt.

Slade really had taken the wrong woman then.

"Do you love _her?_" She closed her eyes, wishing she could take back the question and the disdain that had coated the final word. It was none of her business. She didn't want to _know_. It was one thing hearing her dad tell her. Her dad wasn't Oliver. He couldn't _know _for sure.

As long as Oliver didn't say it, then it wasn't real.

Maybe someday he'd love her again.

"Laurel-" He trailed off. She opened her eyes and met his gaze head-on.

She didn't need his answer. It was there. In his gray-blue eyes.

"Why?" She hadn't realised the question had escaped her mouth until she saw Oliver's eyes flashing in righteous anger. "I didn't mean that-"

"She's the best person I've ever met, Laurel. She's the unending, undying light in the black hole I've lived in for the last seven years." He stood suddenly and dropped his napkin on the table. "Don't _ever _talk about her like she's _less _than what she is, Laurel."

"What _is _she?" She wondered, voice full of wonder.

Oliver dropped his gaze, mumbling thickly. "She's _everything._"

Her tears began to fall as he brushed past her chair and left the restaurant. Laurel wanted to hate her. She _did _hate her.

But her father believed that Felicity Smoak made Oliver a hero. And for the first time she allowed herself to wonder just how much Felicity had done to make Oliver the man he was now.

_"And you're making a very big mistake in underestimating what she means to him."_

Clearly.

* * *

**I couldn't quite figure out the ending for this. So I'm leaving it here...mainly because I have no interest in continuing her thought-process. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. And I promise I've been working on all of my other fics. Thanks for reading!**


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